tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35541046011751028122024-02-20T22:48:22.519-08:00The Incorporeal EntranceHannah's Reading Roomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759661826565858069noreply@blogger.comBlogger254125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3554104601175102812.post-14700068786760251052015-09-23T20:19:00.001-07:002015-09-23T20:19:35.365-07:00Mr. Bubbles 5 Month Portraits - Sunset<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Part of learning to take good pictures is simply practicing. </div>
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My little man makes a beautiful subject, though perhaps not the most cooperative. Working at a wedding and portrait studio, I've learned a lot from following along, asking lots of questions, and getting to learn from a truly talented photographer. One of his specialties is sunset portraiture. I live in a neighborhood that has a big open grassy field perfect for sunset portraits so I thought, "Why not give it a try." Let me just say, having a 5 month old be the subject for a sunset shoot can be really awesome and really testing all at once. For one, he simply does not hold a pose and when you have a sunset that is quickly disappearing this can be frustrating. However, he is super cute - I'm not biased at all - and I'm happy with how the pictures tuned out. I've got a long way to go but I liked how these few tuned out. </div>
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Happy 5 Months Little Man!</div>
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<br />pianolass94@gmail.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03612647877727502577noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3554104601175102812.post-84068604325098226092015-09-02T05:21:00.003-07:002015-09-02T05:21:40.474-07:00Let Love Be GenuineWhen God drives home a point He does so in the most clarifying, repetitive ways.<br />
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I find that I must ask myself, what am I missing?<br />
What have I missed out on that God is teaching me this?<br />
What in His goodness have I disregarded in my pride?<br />
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This morning a stark reminder was placed before my eyes. A reminder from the Word.<br />
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<i>"For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not think of himself more highly than he out to think, but to think with sober judgement, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned.</i></div>
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<i>"For as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another.</i></div>
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<i>"Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them: if prophecy, in proportion to our faith; if service, in our serving; the one who teaches, in his teaching; the one who exhorts, in his exhortation; the one who contributes, in generosity; the on who leads, with zeal; the one who does acts of mercy with cheerfulness.</i></div>
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<i>"<u><b>Let love be genuine.</b></u> Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. Love on another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor."</i></div>
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Who am I to walk with such pride?</div>
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I mean really, the last several months I've whined and I've complained. "Where do I fit? Why don't I know how to relate to them? Why are things different? Why can't I find more people like me?"</div>
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Seriously girl, what is your problem?</div>
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I haven't let love be genuine. I've been overly critical. I've been downright ugly in my judgement and assessment of people.</div>
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But it's soooooo easy. It's so easy to elevate my own ideas, to place my thoughts as higher, loftier, more well thought out. Hiding under a guise of insecurity, I raise myself to an unreachable platform where me and myself can sit and bask in ..... well nothingness?</div>
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God made these people! God filled this earth with people! Different people! Different personalities!</div>
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It's beautiful Kaila!</div>
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This church thing. This family. This body! Yeah, it's more than just you girl. It's a whole bunch of people that God's wired a little differently than you to bring glory to Himself! Lord knows, and He really does know, that if it were up to just me there would be some major missing members. Like, a lot of missing members. He created us to compliment and chisel one another. It's a beautiful thing.</div>
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In the last month, God has helped me get to know a few key people in my life on a whole new level than I had ever known them before. These were almost all people that I either felt uncomfortable around, intimidated by, annoyed and frustrated with, or downright didn't give much thought about. And then suddenly, one by one, they became my friends. They became brothers and sisters to me because God tore down those nasty walls built up by selfish pride and revealed to me fellowship with each. The comradery and joy that comes in letting love be genuine, in loving one another with brotherly affection...WOW. The richness of that!</div>
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When God wakes you with His words, pay attention. There's something here He doesn't want you to miss. I've been missing it. And it sucked. But to see it...ah, now there is joy and relief and repentance and love!</div>
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Perhaps now I ought to memorize a few lines. Not because it's the good Christian thing to do. Not cause hey, that makes me look good, but because I need these words. I need to remember that this is bigger than me. I need to remember that God's Word means something. And it is GOOD!</div>
pianolass94@gmail.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03612647877727502577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3554104601175102812.post-15622462080826530462015-09-01T07:11:00.000-07:002015-09-01T07:14:00.198-07:00Hebrew LearningThis last week has brought about the continuation of my mans edu-MA-cation......where he learns neat-o things like Hebrew, Greek, Scripture reliability and the likes. I've wanted to learn Hebrew since probably age 8 and so imagine my delight when he asked me if I'd like to learn it with him. Of course I said yes.<br />
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And then he believed me and bought me a set of books!</div>
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Needless to say, this last week was awesome in the learning regard. The Alef-Bet song (a high pitched, jumpy, catchy Youtube song) has been stuck in my head so permanently that I find myself humming it when Mr. Bubbles wakes up in the middle of sleeping time to snack. And then, I find it playing through my head for the next 37 minutes until I finally drift back into a sleep, hindered slightly by dreams of Olive Betting a Vet that Gimli and Daleks will bail Hay together.... (Aleph, Bet, Vet, Gimel, Dalet, Hey....and so on.) Why my brain can only remember the correct order of things when I make up crazed stories is beyond my understanding. Meanwhile my sons stuffed lion has been renamed Tav, our sink; Samekh, and our fridge; Fe - which of course is Pe without the dogesh. </div>
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Isn't learning fun?</div>
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There is something entirely satisfying in stretching ones mind and exercising the limitations of memory. I find that I crave it! It's like reading a book that's two levels ahead of your normal reading level. There's a satisfaction in finishing even just a few pages, not to mention a whole chapter. </div>
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Well, anyways, Mr. Bubbles isn't sounding pleased and my coffee is nearly done. Writing is now a race between inspiration and my child's pleas for nourishment. </div>
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He's wailing....so I think he won today.</div>
pianolass94@gmail.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03612647877727502577noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3554104601175102812.post-47144432563460856792015-08-03T11:40:00.000-07:002015-08-03T11:40:01.480-07:00Meet Mr. Bubbles a.k.a. Lawrence William<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />pianolass94@gmail.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03612647877727502577noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3554104601175102812.post-13509829129730188552015-08-03T11:32:00.000-07:002015-08-03T11:32:00.773-07:00TimeIn the history of most blogs there is usually a large span of time where they sit idle and unnoticed. For personal blogs this means either one of two things. 1. The blogger has no life to blog about, or 2. The blogger does in fact have a life, a very busy life, and thus a lack of time to blog. I believe the latter option to be the case with this blog. There certainly hasn't been a lack of ideas or topics to write about, however, I've noticed a sever lack of time in the last several months and for that I do apologize. Currently my vehicle is back in the mechanics shop for the second week in a row and my baby is still asleep (fingers crossed), and at this moment I find myself with a small dose of some time upon my hands. <div>
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I've missed blogging, especially on this blog. I tried starting a couple other blogs and at last I decided that it was in vain. I wasn't going to write more by starting new blogs. I love this one. This is the one strange place where I can go back and clearly see the journey of Christ working in and changing my life. It's odd to imagine that this was once a place that I wrote purely about music. Now it's become a place that I can write about anything and everything. My thoughts, though nothing particularly thrilling, often found a soothing escape flying off my finger tips and onto the screen. I've missed it. My thoughts need an escape sometimes. They just do. Plus, now that I have a little munchkin of my own, I thought it would be a great place to write about him, his adventures, and all the wonderful little things I learn from him each day. </div>
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So, you'll just have to bear with me for a little while. Whenever I take a break from writing and then get back to it there's a few weeks/months of lame posts about random nothings before I get back into my groove. There's this tendency to imagine that somehow I'll actually write something great and that can add to the silliness of the posts. But you know, that's the beauty of the blog. It's mine. I can write completely lame posts and then they'll be saved that way I can look back and laugh.</div>
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pianolass94@gmail.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03612647877727502577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3554104601175102812.post-61266436389850878552014-03-20T08:47:00.000-07:002014-03-20T08:47:47.086-07:00All Things NewBright morning. Beautiful, bright, spring morning.<br />
Sunshine. Brilliant sunshine.<br />
Snow, ice, grass....mud. "Splash!" Running through mud and slush. Wind in hair, song in ears.<br />
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<em>"Rise up, O you sleeper, awake<br /> The dawn is upon you<br /> Rise up, O you sleeper, awake<br /> He makes all things new<br /> All things new."</em></div>
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<em><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Andrew Peterson</span></em></div>
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True words. True, spring words. Reality, ever present for me at this time. So much newness. So much change. So much anticipation and wondering. </div>
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Jesus makes all things new. He has done that in my life. He still does that. </div>
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He is constantly changing me, chiseling away at this stubborn block of rock, shaping me more and more into His likeness. I feel the pain of His chipping and hammering, and yet, He allows me to also feel the glory of progress made. I'm so far from perfection.....I won't be there till Heaven, and yet He continues to make me new.</div>
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Do we see our need for newness enough?</div>
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I wondered that this morning. After jogging around the beautiful Lake G., seeing the snow and ice melting away, looking at grass turning greener and greener, smelling the aromas of freshness that come with the warming weather, I wondered if I too need more springs in my life. </div>
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There's still more ice in my heart that needs to melt away. </div>
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I need to love God more.<br />
Not in a duteous Christianeese way. It's more of a deep, inward knowledge and desire that I need and want to love Him more. I need Him to melt away the snow and ice in my heart so that the flowers and grass of love for Him can grow. <br />
I want more spring!<br />
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But there is also this truth that without the ice and snow there would be no spring. <br />
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Ice is cold and hard. Painful and death to the flowers and green. And yet it is life as it melts away and waters the grass. Without the snow and ice there is no spring.<br />
No newness.<br />
No freshness in the air.<br />
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Is it not the same in sanctification? <br />
Without the cold hardness of sin would we see our need for newness? <br />
It is only the snow that makes spring so beautiful.<br />
It is only sin that makes redemption so glorious.<br />
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If we already see ourselves as good and complete, then why on earth would we want newness of life? There would be no need for Jesus.<br />
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But there is need for Him. I need my Jesus! I need Him to make me new! I need Him to melt away the sin in my life. I need Him to teach me to love Him more!<br />
And He promises to do so.<br />
That is beauty!<br />
That is spring.<br />
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Glory!<br />
Wonder!<br />
Thrill!<br />
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Gah....the thrill of it excites me to no end!<br />
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There is so much to rejoice in. Christ has given us life! Do we see that? Do we let that soak us, saturating us like a sponge? It's glorious friends! Pure amazing grace flowing down!<br />
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I need to think about that more.<br />
Maybe that's why God gives spring. To remind me. To make me think. To cause my heart to glory in the God of my salvation.<br />
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He makes all things new. <br />
All. Things. <br />
Gloriously new.<br />
pianolass94@gmail.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03612647877727502577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3554104601175102812.post-7859068653171139282014-03-03T12:40:00.001-08:002014-03-03T12:40:48.376-08:00Little DiapersLittle diapers.<br />
Newborn, 1, 3, & 4.<br />
I packaged all the size 2's last week.<br />
<br />
These were meant for babies. No duh. <br />
They weren't meant for shelves. They weren't meant to be wrapped up with ribbon and just placed on a shelf to be unused. They were meant for babies butts.<br />
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Call me pathetic, sentimental, whatever.....but as I sat there at the Pregnancy Helpline Center that I work at, folding and wrapping hundreds of diapers, all I could think of were the hundreds of babies that would never use those diapers.<br />
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Hundreds of little butts that will never be wiped.<br />
Hundreds of little giggles that will never be heard.<br />
Hundreds of chubby, rippley legs that will never be tickled.<br />
Hundreds of diapers and wipes that will never be used. <br />
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Gosh, it saves lots of time right? Lots of time to care and feed baby. Lots of time to clean and wipe and change. Lots of inconvenience. Lots of frustration. Lots of dying to self.<br />
<br />
The diapers I folded were clean. Clean diapers. Clean diapers look nice and neat, all tied up with bows. <br />
Newsflash! Diapers weren't meant to stay that way! They were meant to be dirtied. They were meant to be pooped on and thrown away because that means a baby is wearing, using and pooping on them and that is a beautiful, BEAUTIFUL thing!!!<br />
Babies are beautiful things.<br />
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There's a lot of work. A lot of expense. A lot....I mean, a lack of sleep. A LOT of dying to self. <br />
But this is a good thing! So much of life is dying to self for the sake of others. <br />
I'm not a mom.<br />
I hope to be someday.<br />
I've grown up in a house with a lot of kids and I know it's over my head. It's more than I can handle. It's overwhelming. It's complicated and complex.<br />
And yet....<br />
I find it so amazing. <br />
<br />
Children are beautiful. <br />
They're vipers in diapers, yes. But really life, children, birth, babies, it's all a humongous miracle if you ask me. It's a mess and it's chaos, but it's a beautiful bit of wreckage!<br />
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So I'm praying. I'm praying that all of those lovely, clean, little diapers tied with ribbon, sitting on those shelves, will soon be filled up to the max with poop and pee from little babies backsides! I am praying that those diapers will be soiled and thrown away very VERY soon! I am praying that we'll need extra help getting diapers ready to give away to Mommas in need. <br />
That's what I'm praying.<br />
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God, please fill those little diapers!pianolass94@gmail.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03612647877727502577noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3554104601175102812.post-54120388452925918232014-02-26T08:34:00.000-08:002014-02-26T08:34:49.661-08:00The YearningI'm in love. <br />
No duh, right?<br />
Yeah, I am head-over-heals-in-love. I'd be the first to admit that I've lost it. Cloud nine, all. the. way.<br />
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My heart still flutters every time my Love calls me on the phone. Seeing his face and hearing his voice gives me the thrills. I can't wait to marry him - well, I can, I have to, but ya know what I mean. As we go through the week, with our full busy schedules, I look forward with great, GREAT excitement to the next time I'll see him. And when I am with him, time seems to fly and soon it's time to say those dreadful words, "Good bye."<br />
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To all my wonderful single friends, don't leave yet! There is a point. It's coming. :) Please bear with me.<br />
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I remember once, trying to explain this strange magnetic pull that occurs whenever Drew enters the room. It's like some invisible something is pulling me towards him. After a little research, I discovered that there is in fact a word to describe this.<br />
According to Webster's 1828 dictionary, the word to describe this phenomena is "yearning."<br />
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<em>"Usually, to long; to feel an earnest desire; that is literally, to have a desire or inclination stretching towards the object or end."</em></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Webster's 1828 Dictionary</span></div>
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Being the nerd that I am, discovering that Webster seemed to nail the way I feel about my fiancé was a wonderfully exhilarating moment! <br />
Someone understands!<br />
Not just anyone; Webster!<br />
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This pull, this yearning for the man I love, it reminds me a lot of another yearning.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Heaven.</span><br />
I long for Heaven. <br />
Thinking of Heaven excites me, it thrills me, it fills me with anticipation. <br />
It's a lot like being in love, just larger scale.<br />
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Just as this bride here longs and yearns for her groom - it's true, it's sappy, and I'm sorry, but I'm really not sorry - the bride of Christ should long for her heavenly Groom. <br />
Thinking about how much I miss my darling, how excited I am to see him, and how I long to marry him, has been an excellent reminder for how I ought to yearn for my heavenly Groom, the Lord Jesus. <br />
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Knowing that I'm going to see Drew can make me more hyper and jittery than three cups of coffee.<br />
Does my excitement for Heaven, for Christ, do that?<br />
Sometimes.<br />
Not enough.<br />
Why?<br />
Because I allow my excitement and anticipation to grow cold. When the realization of Christ's love is fresh and brand new, it's like falling in love for the first time. But after a while it's easy to allow that initial love and excitement to grow regular and ordinary. <br />
But it's not regular and ordinary!<br />
It's amazing!<br />
It's something worth glorying in daily!<br />
I've been saved and redeemed by the blood of the Lamb and my eternal home is in Heaven with my Groom. I should feel deeply a longing and yearning to be home with Him, to be in His arms, to be by His side, to be united with my other half. <br />
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Falling in love, courting this wonderful man, being engaged to him......each stage has increasingly made me more and more aware of my longings for Heaven. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(That sounds funny......don't over think that statement. ;) Take it in context.)</span><br />
The more I yearn to be with Drew, the more I understand the way I long and yearn for Heaven, for my Groom, for my heavenly home.<br />
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It's a beautiful thing.<br />
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It's a glorious thing.<br />
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There is a yearning. <br />
It is deep and throbbing. It consumes. It takes over. It makes me dizzy with excitement and anticipation.<br />
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I can't wait to marry Drew. The thought of being his wife thrills me.<br />
But I REALLY can't wait for Heaven!<br />
That thought thrills me even more.<br />
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Heaven is waiting.<br />
I can't wait!<br />
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pianolass94@gmail.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03612647877727502577noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3554104601175102812.post-60945895946433783522014-02-17T18:21:00.000-08:002014-02-17T18:21:11.901-08:00SnowSnow.<br />
Cold, white, freezing, Wisconsin snow.<br />
We've been hit with Elsa's powers, of this I am thoroughly convinced.<br />
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I was riding in the car with my dad today....on the way home from purchasing a dress of significant importance. Looking out the windshield at snow drifts and wind blowing the snow into a giant swirl of whiteness, I sighed and let out a complaint about my weariness of the snow. <br />
"At least it's not black," he responded to my whining. <br />
Black.<br />
Black covering the fields, the trees, the houses, the cars, the road.....everything.<br />
That would be horrendous. <br />
That would be dark.<br />
Frightening.<br />
Ick.<br />
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Yes, I'm glad it's not black.<br />
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"I like to think of the snow and how it's like Christ making our sins whiter than snow."<br />
Wisdom. Beautiful, quiet wisdom. A statement from father to daughter. A simple statement. A deep statement. <br />
Shut my mouth.<br />
Shut up my complaining and whining about snow.<br />
It's beautiful. It really is.<br />
Whiter than snow.<br />
I can't imagine it. My sins, whiter than snow. My scarlet heart changed into beautiful, clean whiteness. And all because of love! Love that is deeper, truer. Love that carries the sins of the world on Himself. <br />
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Wisconsin snow. Jesus blood. Sinful heart. Whiter than snow.<br />
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There's beauty all around. Pictures of Christ's love swirl around us if we're willing to see. To close the mouth and listen. Listen to the lilting, floating melody of love that swirls around us in the air we breath. Do you see it? Do you hear it? <br />
"Redemption! Salvation!" cries out the snow. "Look, see the piercing light of the sun reflecting off of the whiteness! Brighter and whiter than this has He made your heart."<br />
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Do I see? Do I hear? <br />
Not always.<br />
But, I'm learning.<br />
I'm learning to open my eyes, to wipe away the glassy film of self-pity and see. There is beauty. All of creation testifies the glory of the Savior and I'm starting to see it more and more.<br />
Praise the Lord, He gives me reminders each day. He puts people like my parents, my fiancé, my friends to remind me. <br />
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Snow.<br />
Cold, white, freezing, Wisconsin snow.<br />
A lifetime of grace and forgiveness, mercy and love.<br />
Snow. Whiter than snow.<br />
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The cold still bothers me Elsa.pianolass94@gmail.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03612647877727502577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3554104601175102812.post-6619967235405286972014-02-07T04:07:00.002-08:002014-02-07T04:07:54.559-08:00Simple Truth<img alt=" " class="pinImage" src="http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/81/1c/f9/811cf9fed46b210a0e9966390b246a85.jpg" style="height: 1100px; width: 736px;" />pianolass94@gmail.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03612647877727502577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3554104601175102812.post-74478796987075760242014-02-05T18:35:00.000-08:002014-02-05T18:35:26.388-08:00It's Not All About Us<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjAedWte8j3aU9-E0KG0ye_x_FCGWRn8AoX00DCuR37Y7RIP6ZYHO_H3hWDdYF7BQKiM5Znvq_umvqGAM6fHcDH1RYD2YS0hhMBceUayrolNxO2wMHPd1Ru-TXW34WKLG26990JEtUj3nn/s1600/KailaDrew1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjAedWte8j3aU9-E0KG0ye_x_FCGWRn8AoX00DCuR37Y7RIP6ZYHO_H3hWDdYF7BQKiM5Znvq_umvqGAM6fHcDH1RYD2YS0hhMBceUayrolNxO2wMHPd1Ru-TXW34WKLG26990JEtUj3nn/s1600/KailaDrew1.jpg" height="217" width="400" /></a></div>
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This is a story. It's a story of two people, a bunch more people, and a really big God.</div>
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Last Saturday, something really big happened. </div>
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Two people who wanted to get married, decided that they should get married. In other words, he proposed, I said yes and we got engaged. </div>
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Well...there's a little more to it.</div>
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However, before I recount this lovely tale, I want to be sure that it's quite clear this story isn't just about us. I feel like so many courtship to engagement type stories are just like candy articles for Christian homeschooled girls to read and daydream over. It's not really about two people that liked each other, had a perfect courtship, fell in love and are planning on getting married. There is so much more to courtship/dating/what-eva-ya-wanna-call-it than so many people let on. Really, this is about two people learning to love God more. When I really think about it honestly, this story really isn't about us nearly as much as it is about God.</div>
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And so, I shall do the very best to give you an honest retelling of our story, not because I think y'all need to know.... ;) but because someday I'll have grandkids that will ask and I want to be able to remember this even when I am old and senile. Just kidding.</div>
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I met Andrew Metzger sometime between the months of March and May of 2013. I keep trying to nail down the exact date but every time I think I've got it I start second guessing myself. Anyhoo, I was at CYAM (College and Young Adult Ministries) one evening. One of my besties, Vanessa (who recently got married) brought me over to the front where two brothers (one tall, one my height) were finishing up practicing music for the night. I had seen them both before but never bothered to introduce myself or make any attempt to meet them. </div>
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I should insert a side note here, that at the time I was completely uninterested in ever getting married. This stage of my life lasted only a couple months, but it was in fact during this time that I met my future husband-to-be.</div>
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Vanessa introduced us and then began to talk the shorter of the two, Andrew. My first thought was, "He's nice, but he's also too short." ( had this prerequisite for my future spouse that he had to be two inches taller than me and this guy was the same height. God was laughing in Heaven.) Also, at this point I hadn't graduated high school yet and was feeling a teensy weensy inferior as they talked about their college classes and professors. Suddenly, Vanessa up and walked away, leaving me standing there, awkwardly unsure of what to do or say. I seem to remember walking away shortly after. :) Later that evening, Vanessa made a joke about how she had fun introducing me to guys and then walking away.....needless to say I was slightly perturbed at the moment, now I can't thank that girl enough!</div>
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Then passed a summer of God really growing me in many ways and changing my heart a lot. I was a guarded and angry person inside, something others may or may not have seen, but something that was a very present reality for me. I could probably write a book about all the ways God changed my heart. Over the summer I truly fell in love...with God. I fell in love with Him in a way that I hadn't before. It was a real burning love for God, not just duty. I love reading my journal entries from the summer, because I can so clearly see how God was working and changing me.</div>
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At this time, Andrew and one other guy from church were leading a summer Bible study. I didn't think of Andrew much other than as our Bible study leader. Then at one point during the summer after Bible study, a group of us, including both Andrew and I, were having a conversation about history and homeschooling. I remember going home that night and telling my mom that I needed to find a Trinity student like Andrew to marry.</div>
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Then summer ended. School started up for most people. I had graduated in the spring so my life settled down into teaching piano, taking online classes, working at the local pregnancy helpline center, and stuff at home. The week of my nineteenth birthday some things happened that drew my attention to a certain Andrew Metzger....mainly his name appearing on a list of participants in my free online class. I told my mom that I was going to "observe" this guy a little more. </div>
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Ha! </div>
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The next Sunday we had a meal after church and Andrew and I talked the whole time. During that conversation I realized that I REALLY liked this guy. A. Lot. </div>
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Through the rest of September and all of October, Andrew and I became really close friends. I was falling in love, and when I say falling, I mean going from not ever thinking of him, to constantly praying that God would help me not idolize this young man. I fell. </div>
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Even though my friends said he clearly, obviously liked me too, I still wondered sometimes. Looking back, yes, it was clear that we both really liked each other. I am so thankful that God gave us that time to become really good friends. </div>
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Then at the end of October, I got home from work one day and was informed that my dad had gotten together with a certain young man for lunch. I about passed out from excitement. It took everything in me to not spill my cup of hot tea all over myself. November 1st Andrew and I went on our first date. We sat on one end of Uno's eating pizza and just grinning at each other, while the rest of my family sat on the other side, probably laughing at us the whole time. </div>
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Thus began our courtship. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR30Y3-3DkDXc2T3Tishi1AEKCHQXkJA-Nw7MIg_L-ZDhXfMIXDol2XxxYyzS5C6H0SZmGb47mQi4v3L7TyLgNo8SQsk4kTr37qh3c52qN6D1Szh7OpNgqJQqmTA0zonPbX34gGvNEeL-l/s1600/KailaDrew2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR30Y3-3DkDXc2T3Tishi1AEKCHQXkJA-Nw7MIg_L-ZDhXfMIXDol2XxxYyzS5C6H0SZmGb47mQi4v3L7TyLgNo8SQsk4kTr37qh3c52qN6D1Szh7OpNgqJQqmTA0zonPbX34gGvNEeL-l/s1600/KailaDrew2.jpg" height="612" width="640" /></a></div>
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It really didn't take long for me to know that this was the man I was going to marry. In all reality, I kinda already knew that even before we started courting, but it really hit me about two weeks after our first date. That's when we exchanged our first "I love you."</div>
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You don't need all the details of our courtship. This is going to be long winded as it is. Let me just say a couple important things. Courtship - getting to know each other with the intent of marriage - is not perfect. And even if you two are "perfect for each other," get along great and don't really have any big disagreements, that doesn't mean that there won't still be difficulties. I learned a lot about myself in courting Drew (yes, he asked me to call him Drew once we started courting). The biggest thing I learned was what it really means to love people. I don't know if y'all have heard Andrew Peterson's song "Love is a Good Thing," but this song became a very real reality to me. The first time I heard it I remember thinking that it was a nice song, but I didn't really get it. Now I get it. God taught me so much about what it means to love, not just Drew, but all of the people that He has put in my life.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc3ik8smZP4gbdRoZAkU_JpMw-vh93hKLaefJLs2js-PAcRrPbPL13VgKhNoNdroOrRzkiK6Oyk96T5RWxmfieHDHlT9MRaU0LZzgWpCXHziy2KcGw3S8Gu2y9vodq0D4J8l7PRQ0b4Aes/s1600/KailaDrew3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc3ik8smZP4gbdRoZAkU_JpMw-vh93hKLaefJLs2js-PAcRrPbPL13VgKhNoNdroOrRzkiK6Oyk96T5RWxmfieHDHlT9MRaU0LZzgWpCXHziy2KcGw3S8Gu2y9vodq0D4J8l7PRQ0b4Aes/s1600/KailaDrew3.jpg" height="281" width="400" /></a></div>
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By January, we had already started talking about getting engaged and even started brainstorming about wedding ideas. I think people thought we were crazy. That's okay. We think we're crazy too. :)</div>
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Then last week happened.</div>
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First, this rumor started circulating through our house that Drew and Daddy would be getting together on February 3rd. That part wasn't really a surprise since my Dad got together with him a few times through our courtship, but I was pretty sure that Drew was going to ask his permission this time. Thus I had placed the idea of getting engaged at a few weeks away. Little did I know that Drew had already asked my Dad's permission to marry me.</div>
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Then came Saturday, February 1st.</div>
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This picture is of the oblivious girl on that wonderful Saturday morning. She had no clue. NOT a CLUE. </div>
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Drew and I with a few close friends got together at Chili's for lunch. I hadn't seen him in a week and was really happy to be at lunch with him. But way too soon he got up and said we had to leave. I was rather upsetted by this because I had really hoped to see him longer than that. We headed out the door to leave....I'll admit I was starting to feel a little sulky. Then he said that I should come with him somewhere. I had driven up with my life-long best friend Paige and was thus very confused by this idea. Plus, through our courtship there was a rule that Drew and I weren't allowed to drive alone together. I was so confused, but he said that he had worked things out with my dad and to top it off, Paige was all good with it. The reality is, I only believed him because Paige was all good with it. I knew that she wouldn't be so chill unless she knew that Drew really had worked things out with my Dad. I don't know why I was so confused. Haha, brain block or something. I asked Drew where we were going and he said with the gusto of Bilbo, "We're going on an adventure."</div>
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Ri-----ght. An adventure.</div>
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Somehow, I still didn't totally get it. I had started thinking that maybe he was going to propose, but I really didn't want to expect to be proposed to and then be disappointed if it didn't happen.</div>
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Then he pulled into our church's parking lot. I started freaking out. It was about that moment that it hit me what was going on. I don't think I will soon forget following him across the church foyer to the exact place where we first met. Nor will I forget staring into his eyes, or the words he said before getting down on one knee to propose. </div>
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I wish I could say I said something charming and witty followed by a yes, but alas, all I could do was freak out, shake my hands around like such a girl and say, "Oh my go----sh! YES!!!" and then bear hug him.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOWBOH0DZ30crIyngmGBvb55Ahg5CFjNR8ivKR_dKK_meGGcauLpD5ki9Mtz4-cAi9-MZXumm1exDDQkbVL9G6ZCe2Bm0diIsKDtsDTB6tMSFUfZ5RK_2-1CbOY35Sme29_NH9h6vQu-H2/s1600/KailaDrew4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOWBOH0DZ30crIyngmGBvb55Ahg5CFjNR8ivKR_dKK_meGGcauLpD5ki9Mtz4-cAi9-MZXumm1exDDQkbVL9G6ZCe2Bm0diIsKDtsDTB6tMSFUfZ5RK_2-1CbOY35Sme29_NH9h6vQu-H2/s1600/KailaDrew4.jpg" height="320" width="296" /></a></div>
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Afterwards we went to his house where our families and close friends were all waiting for us to arrive for a party.</div>
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And this is the amazing ring. I don't generally like engagement rings, but he picked out one that was exactly how I had always dreamed my ring would look. He knows me well. I always wanted a sapphire in the middle and look what I got!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUeEeHtV1bVyQqIC677W9qTb-bFNbUZ6VzZd1VI6K3cBeGjas3TF9i5cLcgTSvuzzAN30gBzH4hiThBcT2g18Hp-6-obhxTo9veL8-rmpKUcbknyEsy1MiliACFqKCzAa5YsUFaiZN_G1v/s1600/1800304_10202136769514005_1983272421_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUeEeHtV1bVyQqIC677W9qTb-bFNbUZ6VzZd1VI6K3cBeGjas3TF9i5cLcgTSvuzzAN30gBzH4hiThBcT2g18Hp-6-obhxTo9veL8-rmpKUcbknyEsy1MiliACFqKCzAa5YsUFaiZN_G1v/s1600/1800304_10202136769514005_1983272421_n.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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In all the joy and excitement, I've been basking a lot in God's goodness the last couple days. I keep thinking of how different things would be if life had gone according to my plan rather than God's. If life had gone according to my plan, I wouldn't be here right now, and I certainly wouldn't be engaged to Drew. I love these lyrics from "Love is a Good Thing."</div>
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"Love is a good thing.<br />It'll fall like rain on your parade, <br />Laugh at the plans that you tried to make, <br />It'll wear you down till your heart just breaks <br />And it's a good thing. <br />Love is a good thing."</div>
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It's so true. God had to break my heart a little. He had to show me that my dreams, while good, weren't His plan for me. He had to bring me to a place where all I knew I confidently had was Him. And then He showed me why He had to do that.</div>
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I am so thankful that God is God and I am not. He has blessed me beyond anything I could've imagined. And I don't just say that as someone newly engaged. God has made me increasingly aware of His goodness all around me. That's one of the things that made me fall in love with Drew. He was always pointing me to Christ and talking about God's goodness. God is good through times of joy and through times of fiery trial. The best part is, God is still good even when we are not. </div>
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Even when He has to break us, He does so because He is good and He is working all things together for good. </div>
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My engagement story is not about me. It's not about Drew and I. It's about God. God working to bring two sinful people together for His glory. </div>
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And gosh, I can't wait to marry this man! </div>
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<img height="72" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguKhufGT9wBTDXOMe20N5aYDBG4O_Oq1anMfRC4mQy1wLmun2W4-0X2rSiQOLP9nW_Qq9p_m5Lsj8fIPnsN5Q2VZHCDayNLou8IZu0VdKxRFENJQuZL3Jj6SmnKa-xeVlQlOtkrkLxlbd-/s1600/1621817_10202140939818260_227447294_n.jpg" style="left: 490px; opacity: 0.3; position: absolute; top: 1954px;" width="96" />
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pianolass94@gmail.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03612647877727502577noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3554104601175102812.post-70105218097015236022013-12-24T04:12:00.001-08:002013-12-24T04:12:39.268-08:00It's So Much MorePain. Searing, burning pain. Inward, outward, consuming her. With final groan of agony the child comes forth into this cold rejecting world. Small, weak, needing her. Needing her nourishment, her warmth, her love and her care. His small, fragile life dangles, depending on her for survival. And yet as she looks down into her babes face she knows. It is not his survival that hangs in the balance. It is her own. This tiny helpless babe needing her care in order to live, is the one and only thing that can save her.<br />
I can't imagine being Mary. One moment she was his mother. His world. Her milk nourished him. Her warmth comforted him. Her touch calmed him. To this tiny baby, she was everything. She was his world. <br />
Then all too soon, she wasn't.<br />
I wonder when it hit her. Was it when Simeon came to her in the temple? This old man, a stranger, waiting before death for one thing. Was it when he held her child and said that his eyes were beholding salvation? <br />
Or maybe she began to understand when she found her lost son in the temple, speaking with the religious leaders and "being about his father's business." Did it stab at her heart in a way to hear him say that? <br />
How do you parent the Son of God anyways? Was there an inward struggle as she sought to teach and train and raise him, but knowing that he would be the one to teach her? She was his mother. She was his everything......but she wasn't. He was her everything.<br />
Then the miracles. He could do things, heal people, change things that were out of her control. That moment of desperation when all she wanted to do was fix the problem and the only one who could truly fix it was her son, the child that had depended on her for survival. Was there ever irritation or frustration that he was so much more than her? Did she ever want to shrink away because of how small she felt in comparison to her son? <br />
Then the cross. I can't imagine the agony. Her son, her child who she loved with every ounce of human love, there hanging on a cross. And she down below, helpless to save him.<br />
One moment he was a babe, needing her, depending on her for his very survival, the next moment, nailed to a tree, suffering in agony and there is absolutely nothing she can do.<br />
She can't reach up and pull him to safety in her arms. <br />
She can't ease the pain with a kiss.<br />
She can't wrap him in a blanket and cuddle him.<br />
But she can watch.<br />
And as her heart screams in torrents of pain, she looks up and sees her son, her Savior, on that cross. Her precious, beautiful babe, is on that tree saving her, saving the world. <br />
Then it hits her.<br />
That moment.<br />
The realization that she put him there. <br />
Her little baby that she nursed and held and loved, the one thing that she wanted to save and protect more than anything in the world, she had nailed to the cross. That moment of utter desperation as she falls before her son, wanting only to rescue him from the agony, to save him from such pain, but being helpless to do so because that is the only way through which she herself might be saved. <br />
He is saving her.<br />
Small and weak.<br />
Fragile.<br />
Her life depends on him.<br />
Her very survival depends on him.<br />
The roles are switched. <br />
Her son is more than just a babe. Her son is His Son. The Son of God. The Savior of the world. The Savior of Mary.<br />
And she must let Him go for her own sake and the sake's of millions of billions of people in the span of time. She must release her precious child for the calling for which He came. When everything in her screams at her to pull him close and never let him go, that is when she must release Him. She is His mother, but He is her Savior and she is utterly helpless, lost, eternally dead without Him. He is her only Salvation. <br />
That tiny little child came to die for her, to save her from herself.<br />
The one thing she so desperately wanted to cling to was the very thing she had to let go. <br />
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Mary had to rock her Savior to sleep and then she had to watch Him die.<br />
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Isn't that the essence of Christmas? Isn't that what we should be celebrating? Christmas is so much more than the baby. Christmas is about death and life and salvation made free.pianolass94@gmail.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03612647877727502577noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3554104601175102812.post-57915951645913533492013-12-10T03:39:00.004-08:002013-12-10T03:42:05.061-08:00God is Good - In Which I Share My Pre-Daylight RamblingsMorning chill.<br />
Hot Chai.<br />
Good things for the brain before the sun rises. A moment or two spent in the Word. A journal page filled. Actually, filled is too nice a word. Crammed would be better. Crammed with words and dots and dashes, making up a short summary of the thoughts in my brain. It's early. There's a chance that what made sense a moment ago will appear to be a discombobulated jumble of words later. But it's out there. <br />
Kaila's head before the sun rises. <br />
Kaila's thoughts.<br />
I call these thoughts, "God-thoughts." Little thoughts, here and there, with a similar theme; God. His wonder, His glory, His faith, His justice, His love. Thoughts on God. <br />
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God is good. <br />
Do you know that? It's a simple phrase. Something easily devalued. What worth is the word "good" nowadays anyways? We're all good here aren't we. Our efforts are good. Our piddley little tries are good. What's really good?<br />
God is good.<br />
God is very good.<br />
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Take a moment. Let it sink in. Let that thought consume your mind. Close your eyes. <br />
He is good.<br />
He is God.<br />
God is good.<br />
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I've been thinking this "God-thought" a lot lately. Taking time to pause from my daily craziness and think. Stopping every now and then to let it overwhelm me. Spacing out in a moment of enraptured amazement. It's good to think on God's goodness. It does things to our hearts. It makes the momentary worries and confusions of this world seems small and inferior. God's goodness transforms worry into trust, love into hate, confusion into security, and the endless monotony of everyday things into purpose.<br />
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Now let's throw some Christmas into this "God-thought." <br />
I'm usually quite the Christmas Elf, so to speak. Christmas music can't come fast enough. Holiday food and holiday cheer; things I thrive on and live for during December. Spray paint, ornaments, lights, ribbon! The stuff of life, right?<br />
Not always.<br />
It took me a bit longer to hit my holiday heights this year. My brain was preoccupied. Filled. Tired perhaps? But then I got to thinking about how good God is.<br />
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God is good.<br />
He gives good gifts to His children. <br />
He gave His Son as a baby.<br />
Thus, Christmas.<br />
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That baby. Or I should write, that Baby. The Savior of the World. Humble, simple, small. Just a baby. But not just a baby. God's greatest gift. God's answer to thousands of prayers. God's healing for millions. God's salvation offered to all. This baby. This gift.<br />
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I wonder how many times the prophets of old had begged God for Him to send their Redeemer, the Messiah. How they must have yearned and pleaded and prayed. One by one, they died, ever praying, ever trusting, that one day their Deliverer was coming. And He came! Some were there to see Him. Some now get to hear of Him. Some simply got to hope and pray for Him. Each of us has our time and place. But the significance of this gift will never change. <br />
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Would I have been a good Isaiah? Could I have prophesied and told of the Messiah to come, with full faith and confidence, even though my eyes should never see Him? Would I have the faith to believe that this Gift God had promised was coming? Was for real? With my own people all around me, rejecting God, rejecting His goodness, would I have been able to trust that He is good and that He gives good gifts?<br />
Am I able to trust now?<br />
God has sent His Son. The Savior has come. The Savior has died and risen again. I have seen and heard the glories of God's gifts. Has that changed my trust?<br />
Can I claim the goodness of God?<br />
Can I rest assured in His promises?<br />
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My answer should be a resounding "YES!"<br />
But my answer is rarely so confident.<br />
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Rather than trusting in His goodness, I find myself wallowing in my momentary afflictions; if they can even be called afflictions. It's more like wallowing in daily life and feeling blah because I'm too blind to open my eyes and see His goodness all around me. My pathetic drudging blinds my sight. My prayers, if any, become unfeeling requests of "help me get through today." My thoughts sit and dwell on my sorry self. It's pitiful. Not once do I think of the millions of people all over the world who actually have problems to deal with. It's all me, and my trials, and my whinings, my complainings, my groanings. And all for what? There's no purpose to it other than the wasting away of a life. <br />
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But, when God is good....<br />
well, He's always good.<br />
When God is good and <em>I open my eyes to see it</em>, there is something magical that changes. The heart becomes transformed. The mind becomes cleared. The prayers are real and living. The burdens of the saints become real. They become your burdens and you pray. You pray, not because it's what a Christian does, but you pray because you can't go without it. You NEED it, you CRAVE it, you LONG for that time to pour out your heart to God because HE IS GOOD! <br />
He is good and He hears.<br />
He hears the prayers we pray. <br />
He hears the petitions of our hearts. <br />
He savors our words, our feeble, jumbled, nonsensical words, because He is good and He loves us!<br />
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And the mores we taste of His goodness and love, the more <em>we </em>love. <br />
We love Him.<br />
We love others around us.<br />
It's real, it's living, it's raging within us. Not just a sentimental, its-Christmas-we-should-love-everybody, but a real bearing of one another's burdens. It's a deeper, consuming kind of love that takes over, because when we taste His goodness and His love it changes us. It rocks our world! <br />
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There's a song. It's been stuck in my head lately. It asks a question. "What if we all loved like it's Christmas, more than once a year?" Why do we love at Christmas? <br />
Could it be that the plastic, light-up nativity scene means more than decoration and charm? Could it be that bell ringers represent more than someone asking for money? Could it be that under all the commercial, holiday-hoobie-whatie, there's something more?<br />
Yeah!<br />
God's goodness!<br />
God's love!<br />
That's what's under it all!<br />
And even though Christmas gets secularized and tinkered with, there is this underlying reminder of God's good Gift to the world that is almost impossible to miss unless your eyes are completely closed. <br />
You know what I think? We should have that nativity scene out and lit up in June! <br />
Let's be honest, we are forgetful people. We need that reminder up! We need to daily be reminded of God's goodness, of His Gift, of His love. Because we forget. We lose sight. We forget to pray. We forget that He hears.<br />
God is good!<br />
<br />
He is so SO GOOD!!!<br />
And He loves us.<br />
<br />
He loves us enough to say "No," and "Not yet." He loves us enough to make us wait. Isaiah didn't get to be there for Messiah's birth. But oh the glory that he must have felt in hearing from God the prophesy of Messiah! The prayerful hope and yearning for the Messiah, the Deliverer, the Son of God he must have felt! And us, we have seen and heard. Do we believe?<br />
<br />
Is God good to you?<br />
He is good.<br />
But is He good <em>to you</em>? Do you see His goodness? Have you opened your eyes and heart to the goodness He has poured out?<br />
<br />
Do you see that plastic, light up baby. It's a picture, a crude, plastic reminder. But it's real! That Baby changed everything. God's goodness in sending His Son, changed everything. We need to remember that. We need to claim that goodness.<br />
<br />
Chai tea is gone.<br />
It's still dark out.<br />
I need another sweater.<br />
<br />
God is good.<br />
Don't forget.pianolass94@gmail.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03612647877727502577noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3554104601175102812.post-8288139939513810982013-11-28T03:25:00.000-08:002013-11-28T03:25:35.433-08:00Thankful for the Old Paths<div align="center">
Jeremiah 6:16</div>
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"Thus saith the Lord, </div>
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Stand ye in the ways, and see,</div>
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and ask for the old paths,</div>
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where is the good way, and walk therein,</div>
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and ye shall find rest for you souls..."</div>
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It's a day of thanksgiving and reflecting. I like to think all the way back to the Pilgrims sacrificing their very lives in a new land. No family was left unvisited by death and still, out of love for God, the set apart a time to stop and thank Him.</div>
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When I think of the old paths, I think of the roads that the ancients have trod. I think of the many examples given in Scripture and throughout all of history.</div>
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I picture Noah, walking the path that leads into the Ark.</div>
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Abraham, walking the path up to the altar to sacrifice his son.</div>
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Moses, climbing the path up Sinai where the Lord would visit him.</div>
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Joshua, leading Israel on a path through the Jordan river.</div>
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Ruth, on a path away from her home, following her mother-in-law Naomi.</div>
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David, marching up the path to the place where the giant Goliath waited.</div>
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Solomon, on the path going into the temple.</div>
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Esther, walking down the path leading to the king, uninvited.</div>
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Nehemiah, on the path back to the ruined Jerusalem.</div>
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Joseph and Mary, traveling on the path to Bethlehem.</div>
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Saul, falling on the path to Tarsus.</div>
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Peter, walking free on a path through opened prison doors.</div>
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Christ, on the path to Calvary.</div>
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Christ, on the path that leads from an empty grave.</div>
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These are the old paths. These are the paths that the Pilgrims followed. These are the paths that men and women, seeking to follow the Lord, have walked on. They have risen and fallen, but they stand secure. There is no safer path than the one the Lord leads you on. </div>
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"Just keep to the old paths,</div>
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And you'll find your way."</div>
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pianolass94@gmail.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03612647877727502577noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3554104601175102812.post-43809738225625814042013-10-24T08:28:00.001-07:002013-10-24T08:28:38.111-07:00I Have Been ForgivenAnd so, another Reformation Day Faire is over and as I reflect back I am simply filled with awe. I'm amazed at God's faithfulness, at His love, and His grace. God is the God who was and is to come. He never changes. He is infinite, unchangeable and sovereign regardless of our actions. The God I serve today is the same God who Patrick of Ireland served in the 5th century. The God who filled Patrick with love and compassion for his own captors is the God who can fill my heart with love for those who hurt and cause me pain. If you don't know the story of Patrick of Ireland you should really take some time to learn about this amazing man of God. <br />
<br />
All weekend my mind kept racing back to just the sheer power of Patrick's decision to return to Ireland. If I had been kidnapped as a young teenager, sold into slavery in another country, escaped and returned to my home, I really think I would struggle with the idea of going back to that land even as a missionary. That kind of love and compassion isn't my sinful, natural reaction to hurt, but it is the natural reaction for someone who sees how much they have been forgiven. R. C. Sproul pointed out that Patrick lived out the phrase "I have been forgiven." In his actions and his desire to spread the gospel with the people of Ireland, he showed that the man who is forgiven much, loves much. <br />
<br />
In my VOM classes this week, I started a new class on evangelizing. Why do I share the gospel? Why is it of any importance that I tell others the good news? Why step out of my neat, secure comfort zone? What possesses other people to do so? <br />
It's easy for me to slip back and forth between duty and love for God. But really, what is duty anyways? Why bother doing something just because it's something that should be done? <br />
Then I go back to Patrick. No duty there. Seriously, didn't the Celts deserve not to know the good news that Patrick knew? Did they deserve forgiveness? <br />
Then again, did Patrick deserve to hear the gospel? Did he deserve forgiveness?<br />
<br />
Did I deserve to be raised in a home where the gospel was daily preached?<br />
Did I deserve God's forgiveness?<br />
<br />
No.<br />
<br />
But Christ looked down on this wretched, sinful being and loved me. He chose to save me even when my heart was in rebellion against Him. He forgave me. No duty. Just love. And it's that kind of love that He puts in our hearts. See, when I think about sharing the Gospel in light of my natural, sinful feelings, it's just too uncomfortable to be worth the risk. But when I think about sharing the Gospel in light of God's saving grace, His mercy, His love, and His compassion for me, suddenly the fear begins to melt away and I want to tell others. I want those that have hurt me to know that there is freedom in Christ and that He forgives! I want them to feel the power of Christ's love! When I look at how much God has forgiven me, I see a glory beyond comprehension! I want others to see that. Christ has saved me! He has redeemed me! No hurt, no shame, no pain can compete with the love of God. <br />
<br />
That's why Patrick returned to Ireland. That's the only reason I can feel love and compassion for those who have hurt and wounded me. Apart from the Gospel, there is no reason to love those that have caused us pain and suffering. The question is, do we know the Gospel? Is it real for us today? Because if it is, I think we will look at life differently. pianolass94@gmail.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03612647877727502577noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3554104601175102812.post-66814250194898666792013-10-17T06:58:00.001-07:002013-10-17T06:58:02.075-07:00Knowing God More<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">"For the which cause I also suffer these things: nevertheless I am not ashamed: for I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day."<br /> 2 Timothy 1:12<br /> The confidence that I hear is Paul's voice is amazing. "I am not ashamed: for I know whom I have believed..." Perhaps more of us need to know whom we have believed. Paul's confidence came from knowing God. Maybe if we knew God better our confidence in Him would be stronger.</span>Hannah's Reading Roomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759661826565858069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3554104601175102812.post-49841725997157287912013-10-16T05:54:00.001-07:002013-10-18T05:04:44.679-07:00I Said "Why?" And He Said "Who"Tuesdays are my traveling days. I drive to my students homes on Tuesdays and since most of my students live rather far away, I get lots of alone-in-the-car time. The first few times I did my Tuesday routine I felt really bored driving so much, but then a brilliant friend of mine recommended talking to God while traveling about. Best idea ever!!! God and I have lots of very extensive conversations now. I told my sister that and she said, "Some conversation. Don't you need someone talking back to have a real conversation?" "No, He talks back."<br />
<br />
"How?"<br />
<br />
I didn't really know how to answer that one. I mumbled something about peace and leaves.....I think she thought I was going hippie based on the look she gave me. God does answer though. He does talk back. You just have to be listening for His answer. <br />
<br />
I get in my car and drive. Mile by mile my heart is poured out to God. Lesson one down and I hop back in my car. The conversation picks up right where it left off. Then I decide it's time to be quite for a moment and listen. <br />
<br />
School lets out a few minutes before I pass the high school. Each week I pass this boy who walks like Christian, with a burdensome backpack on his back. He never smiles and he always walks alone. I wonder why? Is he bullied? Does he just like the fresh air? Does he need alone time after a day with hundreds of youth all around him?<br />
<br />
A block away I see the other regular - regular as in, I pass them every week - except she's not walking alone with her headphones on and tears on her cheeks. Today she's walking with a friend and they are laughing. Is that what she needed all this time? A friend? Did she hate walking alone every day? <br />
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I pass a gas station. An elderly man with long, shaggy white hair walks down the sidewalk. I chuckle. He looks just like the last picture of Einstein I saw, except for the baggy t-shirt and ripped jeans. He carries two bags of who-knows-what, back hunched over, hair blowing crazy in the wind. What's his life like? What does he do? How many days does he have left here?<br />
<br />
Fox Lake; I guess it's really not a small town, it's just easy to get through pretty quickly.....probably because no trains come through at the time I drive by. Sometimes I wonder how old the buildings are. Did anyone ever propose in that gazebo? How many people have boarded the train? How many ants have been killed on that sidewalk?<br />
<br />
And suddenly it hits me like a load of bricks. He's answering me. I asked Him, "Why?" and He answers me by saying "Who?" <br />
"Who made each of these people? Who made every tiny piece of everything you see? You wonder about their stories, there histories, there lives. Who already knows that? You know nothing and yet you daily question me. Look, see what I've done. See what I'm doing. Do you have the faith to believe that I am God and I am in control."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
A couple weeks ago, in my Biblical Studies of Persecution class, my professor made note of this. He said that often when we ask God the why's in life and rather than handing us the answers we're looking for, He reveals Himself to us more. It's so true. Even when I fail to recognize His revealing, He is always there showing Himself stronger to me. There are stories swirling all around me like the fall leaves. Lives are being lived, lives are being ended. The world is a constant circuit of motion and activity and really, in all honesty, I know nothing. I don't know a thing about their lives other than that I pass them every Tuesday. I don't know what their lives are like, I don't know what they're thinking, what they're going through, and I probably never will know. <br />
God knows all of that! He knows everything about everyone. <br />
My brain cannot comprehend that. <br />
He is infinite and I am finite.<br />
He is worthy of my trust, my faith, my life.....He's worthy of my all.<br />
<br />
And that's how He talks to me. Through people, through towns, through leaves, through sidewalks. He speaks, and if I am quiet enough to listen for a moment, I see Him revealing more and more of Himself to me.Hannah's Reading Roomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759661826565858069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3554104601175102812.post-19593830765751702402013-10-14T18:54:00.000-07:002013-10-14T18:54:48.254-07:00Revolt Against "Busy"Today was a beautiful autumn day!!! It was just so amazingly gorgeous that I couldn't help feeling completely happy. As I was walking to my car after working at the Pregnancy Center I simply felt like dancing around town just like the leaves that were falling from the trees. Of course, that urge to dance was probably aided much by the tuba player that was standing at the street corner playing a simply enchanting rendition of "Simple Gifts." The fresh autumn air was just so intoxicating that I knew I could not stay inside the rest of the day, so after dinner I went outside and played catch with Jared for the first time in years. Over the weekend I attempted to play football and was very quickly reminded of the fact that I have not played football in probably close to two years. Sad. I couldn't throw or catch. It was utterly pathetic and totally hilarious. (Yes, I can laugh at myself. I've learned that I have two options in life; laugh or be completely embarrassed.) Anyways, it was a lot of fun and I when I finally threw the perfect, deep spiral, let me tell you, I did a happy dance that could put most touch down dances to shame! ;) <br />
<br />
What's my point you ask??<br />
Glad you asked......or wait.....did I just ask that for you???? <br />
<br />
My point is, today was awesome mainly because amidst the busyness of the day I was able to be "not busy" for half and hour and got to spend some wonderful quality time with a brother that I really don't get to hang out with a lot. <br />
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Life is busy. Let's face it, we're all busy. I feel like hitting myself every time someone asks me how I'm doing and say the same dumb line I always say.<br />
<br />
"I'm good, busy but I'm doing good."<br />
(palm to forehead)<br />
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Seriously, of course I'm busy. Of course you're busy. We say the same thing to each other ever single week. What if we all started saying things like:<br />
"God has blessed me with a full week and I am praising Him for His goodness."<br />
or<br />
"God's given me plenty to do, which may be tiring at times, but it's wonderful."<br />
or<br />
"I am doing great because Christ saved me and gave me a life to live for Him."<br />
<br />
I know why I don't say things like that. I don't say those things because I'm not being grateful to God for all that He has placed in my life. I ask Him to fill my life and give me purpose, then I proceed to complain about being tired and constantly tell people that "I am busy." Busy is such a dumb word. It makes be think of chores and jobs and drudgery and monotonous blah. <br />
<br />
I had this thought. What if instead of being busy, I just started being blessed. Really, all of the things that make my life busy are blessings. They are all things I love and gifts from God. What if I started viewing them as such. <br />
What if I looked at making breakfast - my least favorite meal - as a blessing?<br />
What if I thought of washing dishes as a blessing?<br />
How about grocery shopping, babysitting, piano teaching, Bible studies, sibling chauffeuring etc.?<br />
Because really, they all are.<br />
It's a blessing that I have a family to cook for and dishes to eat from. It's a blessing that I know how to go grocery shopping. It's a blessing that God has given me piano students to teach and the ability to teach them. It's a blessing that I can help watch children at church and for other families. It's a blessing that I can drive - and not just any old car, but big vehicles like the invincible 15-passenger. It's a blessing that I can do laundry, help my family, take Bible classes, and be part of an amazing church. <br />
Really the only thing that's not much of a blessing is the bad attitude I carry with me as I do all those things.<br />
<br />
So, here's the plan. I'm revolting against busyness. I'm sick of being busy. Frankly, I got everything done that I needed to today and then had extra time to have fun with my siblings simply because I decided to quit being busy. I still got up at 4, did Bible classes, made breakfast, cleaned the kitchen, got some stuff done on the computer, practiced piano, worked at a Pregnancy Helpline Center from 10am-4pm, ate dinner, played outside, cleaned the kitchen, and all the other things I did today, but I never once felt busy. I purposed in my heart to view each thing as a blessing and it was simply fabulous! I was blessed today. <br />
I wasn't busy.<br />
I was blessed.<br />
And I loved it!<br />
I got to savor every moment of the day and it was simply smashing.<br />
(Please don't mistake that list of things as a brag list......my Mom has me about tripled as far as the amount of things she accomplishes in a day. I'm just making a point that while I was busy, I wasn't really busy but blessed. Make sense???)<br />
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And now I need your help. If you ever happen to ask me how I am doing and I say the word busy, PLEASE stop me. Point out my slip up and just smile if I turn red. It's good for me. I want to quit talking about how busy I am all the time. I am blessed! Blessed beyond measure. <br />
I want to revolt against this silly 4-letter word once and for all. :-) <br />
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It's time for me to start looking at this beautiful life He's given as a blessing rather than a burden.<br />
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Just one more side note: I know that sometimes we become discouraged and life gets tough. Honesty is important and I don't want you to think that I am encouraging us all to be fake and act like we're feeling great if we really are downtrodden and heavy laden. As the body of Christ, we are here to help one another and bear one another's burdens. Even though I know am blessed beyond measure, I still get tired and worn out. It's okay to ask for pray and seek encouragement. We should be praying for each other on a regular basis anyways. Hannah's Reading Roomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759661826565858069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3554104601175102812.post-8872709713173491462013-10-14T05:59:00.001-07:002013-10-14T05:59:17.382-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
This song has been stuck in my head all morning.<br />
"Praise the Lord, our mighty Warrior!"<br />
It's amazing the peace that washes over my heart when I focus on worshiping the Lord rather than focusing on myself and my silly emotions. "Praise the Lord, the Glorious One. By His hand we stand in victory, by His name we overcome." It's just so beautiful. He is the Glorious One. It is His strength and his name that holds all the glory and victory. In my weakness His strength is revealed. <br />
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Oh, I just get chills thinking about it - and listening to this song. :-)<br />
Hannah's Reading Roomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759661826565858069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3554104601175102812.post-73861654244459136892013-10-11T07:05:00.002-07:002013-10-11T07:05:35.715-07:00Little Gifts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Life is full of the little gifts. <br />
I was working in the kitchen this morning when I heard a boy's wail from the basement. Rushing down, I was met by little Andrew, face full of peanut butter, crying because a toy was taken from him. He turned to me and with a sniffley toddler voice said, "Kaiya, I want you."<br />
With that he wrapped his arms around my neck and we shared a long bear hug. Deeming himself "all better" he left leaving smears of peanut butter across my sweatshirt. My first reaction was to reach up and brush it off, but I stopped before my hand reached the peanut butter.<br />
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Why would I remove such medals of honor? I thought for a moment of the little arms wrapped around my neck and the snuggery hug. Those peanut butters stains were a gift. Small and dirty though they may be, they are tokens of the blessings I receive being a sister. <br />
Little boys grow up. Andrew won't always come to me with woes of toys stolen. Eventually he will become a tough guy that doesn't want Kaiya to see him cry. Someday, he will probably be the guy I go to for help. Those tokens of his affection will wash away in the next load of laundry and all I will be left with is the memory of his little form in my arms.<br />
<br />
Life speeds by at the speed of light and I look and wonder how much I missed already because I failed to cherish the moment. Everyday I am given gifts by my siblings that I usually miss. And then, one of the little ones will have a birthday or grow an inch and I panic! They're growing up.<br />
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Sweet Nathan, who turned six yesterday, is the most affectionate child I have ever seen. He loves snuggling and hugs. Every day he comes and says, "Kaila, you look beautiful." Even on days when my makeup is smeared across my face and I look and feel like I just survived a zombie apocalypse, he still comes and tells me I look beautiful. And of course, that statement is always followed by the sweetest of hugs.<br />
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There are other gifts that I get, like having a tech guy that can aid my every technological woe. Hundreds of dollars have been saved because of Michael, the fix it guy, the computer guy, the geeky goof-ball that drives me crazy and makes me laugh uncontrollably. Just the other day he was able to get Microsoft Word off of my dead Toshiba and put it on my new computer saving me close to a hundred dollars. It was fun for him! He didn't complain one bit. It was a gift. <br />
I have an endless supply of all-natural soap thanks to Rachel. After buying several bars from her, she told me that I no longer had to pay if I was willing to use the deformed bars. It is the best soap ever, and she never asks me to pay. <br />
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Even if I do try to pay her, she always says no and smiles with her beautiful smile. <br />
Jared is the breakfast man. While everyone else is still asleep, he faithfully comes to the kitchen to ask if he can help with breakfast. Sometimes, in my early morning grouchiness I find his presence annoying, but I realize his presence is a gift. He wants to help me. He is giving me a gift and I'm so stupid I tell him to leave. And then, the next morning he's up asking if he can help again. I should mention that the peanut butter and Andrew's face was thanks to Jared's willingness to make the little ones peanut butter toast for breakfast.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglNnTEQMpnnxQHPJek2Pi-zJNypDFfD2WZiyIunxD4NgL3ViI0NHSYT5ehNJgb6xSAzRXjjI5XtmTTuj2VVCgCihXf-sJzT9YQ-370G9NOVSDEnB0m9ffTNZ5vvq0lWleupr0NlfnlDYg/s1600/1209368_389455784515525_1745463187_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglNnTEQMpnnxQHPJek2Pi-zJNypDFfD2WZiyIunxD4NgL3ViI0NHSYT5ehNJgb6xSAzRXjjI5XtmTTuj2VVCgCihXf-sJzT9YQ-370G9NOVSDEnB0m9ffTNZ5vvq0lWleupr0NlfnlDYg/s320/1209368_389455784515525_1745463187_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Then there's Kendra, the nut, the silly little girl that was my first real baby doll. (I was too young when Rachel was born to consider her a real life baby doll.) She has no shame in dancing through the kitchen like a total goof with me. Whenever we try to learn a new type of dance she always takes the guy part, "cause you're the one that needs to learn how to dance with a guy." <br />
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These are just a few of the numerous gifts my siblings give to me each and every day. Somewhere I have a stack of paper I.O.U.'s given out by a little guy one day. There's hot pink nail polish, beautifully swirled across my sewing machine from another little guy. I have pictures and cards, hair clips and bags of coffee, dishes done and surprise lunches packed. There are literally hundreds of beautiful gifts that I have that came from my siblings. <br />
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I love my siblings. They are blessings from God. It is a real privilege that I daily get to invest into their lives. I won't have this forever. They will grow up and though I'm sure we'll still be close, it won't be the same. Being a sister is a wonderful thing! I wouldn't trade being a sister for the world!Hannah's Reading Roomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759661826565858069noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3554104601175102812.post-87875916868360726312013-10-08T03:35:00.000-07:002013-10-08T03:35:11.263-07:00Best Blog Post Ever!I want to write the best blog post ever; the one filled with whit to keep people reading, humor to make them laugh, and conviction to tug at their hearts. I want to write the post with such grammatical and structural perfection that not one mistake is noticed by the keenest of eyes. I want to write that post that changes the world because of it's profound content. Most of all, I want to have that one-liner. The one that everyone remembers, quotes, and writes in their journals and on walls.<br />
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But the reality is: I can't write that post.<br />
I find myself lacking in whit and humor in the early hours of the morning. Usually the only conviction I have is that which tugs at my own heart, weighing me down. I struggle to find the words to express what I mean, and more often than not, end up with a jumble of words easily misinterpreted. Changing the world with a post is rather tricky with a following of 18 - although I love that 18. Besides, what is one blog in a cyber world of millions? <br />
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However, I do have a one-liner to share.<br />
It's deep.<br />
It's profound. <br />
It's encouraging.<br />
It's strengthening.<br />
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It's just not mine.<br />
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I heard it in church a few Sunday's ago. Sometimes, it's the only think that keeps me going. The power of it isn't the words. The truth behind the words is what gives me strength and purpose for whatever I may be going through.<br />
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"For this...I have Christ."</div>
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That's it. </div>
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For this - whatever it is that I am doing or going through - I have Christ.</div>
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Truly, that one line, would be the best blog post ever because that's what I need to hear each and every day. </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">For this...I have Christ.</span></div>
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Hannah's Reading Roomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759661826565858069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3554104601175102812.post-48474250762566398742013-10-04T04:13:00.001-07:002013-10-04T04:13:36.406-07:00Ouch Moment<span class="userContent">In Mark 14:51 we read about a man that was at the garden the night Jesus was arrested wearing a linen cloth. When they arrested Jesus he fled, loosing the cloth and ran away naked. <br /> Something very interesting and convicting that I learned this morning is that in the Greek that cloth refers to a burial cloth. One of the disciples came to the garden in a burial cloth, prepared to follow Christ to death just as they had all promised at dinner. But when death truly faced this disciple, he fled naked, shamed before all. <br /> Ouch.<br /> And then I wonder, am I so very different or would I have done the same?</span>Hannah's Reading Roomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759661826565858069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3554104601175102812.post-40203432926419623622013-10-03T03:57:00.002-07:002013-10-03T03:57:35.533-07:00“Those who are still afraid of men have no fear of God and those who have fear of God have ceased to be afraid of men.” <br />
~Dietrich Bonhoeffer ― “The Cost of Discipleship”<br />
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Can't lie, I was exhausted this morning while taking my class, but I did manage to get this quote out of the lecture. :-) Great reminder for the day!Hannah's Reading Roomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759661826565858069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3554104601175102812.post-80019191817039826772013-10-02T04:29:00.001-07:002013-10-02T04:29:37.008-07:00A Biblical View Of MothersThis is so powerful! I cried....which says a lot for me!<br />
I think perhaps, most of us have a very messed up view of motherhood. I know it's 15 minutes long, but it's worth every minute - guy or gal. <br />
Watch it!!!<br />
Listen.<br />
It's powerful<br />
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Hannah's Reading Roomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759661826565858069noreply@blogger.com0